


From Branches Above

by BeginToFray



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6006280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeginToFray/pseuds/BeginToFray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Clarke has had a rough time. Can a beautiful stranger help turn that around?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If you go down to the woods today...

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work in this fandom. It's more of a trial really, to see if I can write these guys. They might both be a little OOC. I want to write something more canon in the future, but am giving this a go first. This will be a short story, nothing epic, just hopefully a nice time for all involved.... Let me know what you think!

Clarke was not one for exercise. She was not into running like Raven, she did not lift weights like Lincoln and she was never to be found at the Gym with Octavia. But she wasn’t out of shape. Sure, she had curves, but she was fit. She liked her figure, it was womanly and real. She had never had any problem with it. Clarke supposed there was one person to thank for keeping her in shape. Well, not one person really, more like one creature. If it weren’t for Atom, Clarke supposed, she might find herself slightly curvier than she would like. Several hours of her day, every day, were spent out and about with Atom, chasing around in the local dog park, hiking up canyon trails and weaving through the thick trees in nearby forests.

Atom had been a part of Clarke’s life for three years now. Ever since the moment she saw his sandy, wiry fur and dark soulful brown eyes fixing her through the bars of his compartment at the animal shelter, she knew their stories were about to entwine. Three years ago Clarke had been working the phones for the medical emergency hotline whilst studying medicine at university. Her department at the call centre had picked the animal shelter as their good cause that month and so Clarke had found herself on volunteer dog walking duty after sneezing her way out of the cattery. Atom had been her first canine companion of the day, and three years later she had no regrets. The animal shelter had been a good choice, far better than the month previous when the call centre department had misguidedly chosen to help a local nature reserve dredge the streams to improve water flow. Clarke thought she’d never get the damp feeling out of her bones after a day of wading through mud and sludge in the freezing winter. 

A lot had changed for Clarke in those three years. She no longer worked for the medical emergency hotline. She no longer studied medicine at university. She had lost her father and she had grown apart from her mother. But Atom remained. Atom had stayed with her. His deep understanding eyes hadn’t judged her when she turned her back on her training, and quit her university course. His coarse fur the colour of desert sand had soaked up her tears as she mourned the loss of the most important man in her life. His warm chin had rested on her leg through increasingly difficult conversations on the phone to her mother. 

And now, three years after, Atom was, albeit unknowingly, guiding Clarke through another tricky spell. Clarke had always had her doubts about Finn. Sure, the relationship had started pretty abruptly. It was meant to be one night; one night of drunken reassurance that she worth something to someone other than her four-legged friend. She had been drowning since her dad died, struggling to keep her head above the water of emotions that swirled constantly around her, the riptide of the rest of her life without him threatening to drag her under for good. Her friends had been amazing. Well, they had tried to be amazing, but Clarke couldn’t lean on them, couldn’t let herself float on the life raft they offered. She didn’t mean to, but gradually she drifted from them. Not physically. She still saw them all the time, still met for weekly dinners, for film nights piled on the sofa at Bellamy’s, for nights at the bar where Clarke could feel them holding back comments on the amount of alcohol she was consuming these days. Physically she never left them. But there was a distance now; she could feel it and she knew they must be able to as well. She just couldn’t open up anymore. She didn’t want to talk about anything below the surface. She deflected whenever topics delved too deep. She lived in fear of any mention of her dad, and so as she pushed herself away from them mentally, they too began to use each other as sounding boards for their problems; afraid to burden Clarke further, afraid to push her too far out of reach. It took just one day for the hole to appear and it had been widening ever since, hollowing out Clarke’s life as she did nothing to stop it. 

And so there was Finn. Finn didn’t know Clarke before she lost her dad. Finn didn’t have any expectations. Finn saw blonde hair and wide blue eyes. He saw a drunken smile and a quick fix. That quick fix had lasted 18 months. It had been a superficial relationship; they had fun, they had sex, they had zero deep and meaningful conversations and a similar amount of complications. But Finn had provided an escape. If Clarke spent any time considering her old beliefs these days, she’d know it went against every feminist rant she’d ever unleashed on an unsuspecting victim, but Finn’s desire for her gave her a value which she could no longer find in herself. She relied on him for that. She even perhaps loved him for it. But as much as she thought she might love him, she knew she didn’t trust him. And, as it turned out, Finn was also offering similar assurances elsewhere. Another building block crumbled beneath Clarke’s already unsteady footing.

She had been walking for almost three hours already. She’d left the pavements behind, had traversed the gravelled paths and now found herself in the forest. It was one of her favourite places to be. It had been since she was a child. Her father used to bring her here, her boots tied uncomfortably tight, her small gloved hand in his much larger one, and a flask of hot chocolate rattling in her backpack for when they reached their destination. But Clarke didn’t think of that now. She wouldn’t. 

Atom, if he sensed her distress, was doing a good job of hiding it. He hurried ahead of her, hopping over fallen logs and bouncing on the moss covered ground before pausing to glance back at her briefly before rushing on again. He loved the forest too. He loved the smells that permeated the air, the chance of a rabbit to chase or a wood pigeon to send fluttering into the branches above, the scent of deer that he could track across the forest floor. 

Clarke kept her eyes on the ground, it was uneven and the moss often covered unseen dips that could easily send her sprawling. It was because her sights were set downwards that Atom’s growl for the first thing that alerted her to any change in the air around them. When Clarke looked up, the terrier had stopped, his ears pricked, one front paw lifted and the fur at the base of his neck standing upright.

“Atom…” Clarke said quietly. Searching through the dense trees ahead for any sign of what had disturbed the dog. Atom ignored her. He rushed a few steps forward and then stopped once more, adopting the same stance as before. 

“Atom.” Clarke said more firmly, beginning to feel a little more nervous.

Usually Clarke didn’t walk the forest alone. She knew it was silly, she knew there were no bears in the area and wolves hadn’t been sighted here for nearly a decade. But still, a walk in the forest was usually reserved for a weekend, when her friends would accompany her before returning to one or other of their houses for dinner. Raven said days like those were, ‘sickeningly wholesome,’ but she still never turned down an invite. Today, however, Clarke had been feeling slightly reckless. She needed to walk, she needed to stomp her feelings out over miles of ground, to let the chill in the autumn breeze blow the cobwebs from within her mind. She had ventured off the path, wanting to feel the moss beneath her feet, wanting to be surrounded by the tree trunks and covered by the overlapping canopy of stiff pine branches overhead. Now she was beginning to regret her chosen route.

“C’mon boy,” Clarke murmured, turning on her heels and trying to remember the way back to the path. She heard a scuffle behind her and a gruff warning bark. She spun back around to watch as Atom set off at full tilt between the trees ahead of him.

“Atom!” She shouted, immediately wishing she hadn’t as her voice boomed around her, accompanied by the fluttering of wings as a large bird was startled into flight from its perch somewhere nearby. 

“Shit.” Clarke murmured before casting a glance around her and following Atom’s trail. After a couple of yards through the trees she could see his back end ahead of her, tail wagging slowly, uncertainly, and legs rigid, his front end was hidden behind the trunk of a large tree that also blocked whatever was bothering him from Clarke’s view.

“Come on, Atom.” She whispered, patting the flat of her hand against her thigh to gain his attention. It didn’t work though and she sighed shuffling forward slowly and trying not to make any loud noises or sudden movements, wary of whatever it was that had captured Atom’s notice.

Clarke rounded the tree trunk and stopped dead. Standing just a few strides ahead of her, eyes pinpointed on her dog, was a large, grey, almost black, wolf.

It felt as though her heart had stopped completely, dropping like a dead weight in the cavern of her chest. Alone, in the middle of the forest, ripped to shreds by a lone wolf. That was how she’d go. No one would find her for weeks, if ever. And Atom was done for as well. It was completely her fault too. Who wanders solo in the woods? Only a fool. A fool who would be the first killed by a wolf in this area in living memory. She didn’t move. Couldn’t move. There was nowhere to go and nothing to do. She was completely frozen.

And that was when it moved. The wolf pounced forward towards Atom, its front paws and fore legs hitting the ground, its rear remained in the air.

Clarke let out a scream, stumbling backwards and screeching pointlessly for Atom to get away. Her foot caught on an exposed tree root, her ankle twisted painfully and her back hit the ground, her head ricocheting off the trunk of a nearby dead tree, the jagged stump of long rotted branch cutting the back of her head as she fell. Her eyes clenched shut, unwilling to watch as her beloved dog was turned to bloody ribbons before her. 

Then, a strange whirring noise from above, loud and getting louder.

“Ryder! Down!” A shout split the air. 

Clarke’s eyes flew open, immediately taking the body of the wolf, now completely flat to the floor, though its tail was still wagging enthusiastically. Atom, still whole and not a bite mark to be seen, bounced around the wolf, prancing from front feet to back in what appeared to be almost a dance. His tail too was a blur. 

There was a noise of something reasonably heavy hitting the ground and splitting a solitary twig. Clarke turned her head from the sight of the Atom and the wolf to see a woman. A woman in a harness, attached to a rope that seemed to fall from the sky. 

“I’m so sorry,” the woman gushed, unclipping her harness from the rope and stepping towards where Clarke remained crumpled on the forest floor, “He won’t harm you.” 

Clarke stared at her. She felt dazed. Perhaps it was shock from watching her life flash before her eyes and between the jaws of a ferocious beast. Or perhaps it was the bump to the head.

“Are you OK?” The woman asked, leaning down towards her and offering out her hand to help pull Clarke up. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she looked at Clarke, who remained completely still. 

“W-wolf.” Clarke muttered. Her brain still not quite in gear. 

The woman straightened up.

“Wolf?” She asked. “Oh. No, that’s just Ryder. He’s only part wolf. Honestly he won’t harm you.” She smiled now, though she still looked slightly bemused by the situation. “Ryder, come.” She called over her shoulder. 

The wolf stood up from where it had remained lying on its belly in the moss and trotted over to the woman. Clarke’s hand shot behind her and she pulled herself backwards towards the tree trunk. The woman reached her hand towards the wolf and then, to Clarke’s horror, petted it behind the ears. The wolf opened its mouth, tongue lolling out and panted. 

“He’s half German Shepherd.” The woman said, her tone matter of fact. “I’m sorry if he scared you though.” She smiled fondly at the creature by her side.  
Miraculously Clarke chose this moment to regain control of her senses.

“Scared me?” she shrieked, “I thought he was going to kill me. And maul my dog!”

Clarke now felt the anger welling up inside her. It was a familiar feeling, one that she spent a lot of time swallowing back down. But not this time and certainly not when the woman in front of her just laughed.

“He was never going to do either of those things, he’s a gentle giant.” The woman explained. She squatted down to the ground and whistled at Atom. The sandy dog came leaping immediately towards her, placing his front paws on her thighs and jumping to lick her face. The woman pushed him down gently and ruffled the fur on his head before standing again. She offered her hand once more to pull Clarke up from the ground. 

Clarke slapped her hand away, and the woman pulled it back, looking a bit shocked. 

“Who keeps a wolf as a pet?” Clarke demanded to know, “Who lets it loose in the forest?” She began to get to her feet, her anger nearing boiling point now, “What kind of lunatic has a dangerous animal in a public—”

Clarke had managed to get to her feet and immediately felt a shooting pain in her ankle, sending her stumbling backwards towards the tree trunk again. Her sentence stopped mid-flow and a cry of pain was unleashed, unbidden, from her mouth instead.

“Woah there!” The woman’s hand shot out once more, this time securing itself to Clarke’s forearm as she helped stabilise the blonde. 

“I think you might have twisted that.” She said, nodding to Clarke’s ankle. Clarke simply glared at her. She shrugged her arm free from the woman’s grip and tried to step forward towards Atom as she reached for his lead in her pocket. Again, her ankle gave way beneath her and again, the woman before her leapt forward to steady Clarke before she fell. 

“Come on, sit down.” The woman said, gently this time. Clarke sighed and began to lower herself back to the ground begrudgingly with the woman’s help. 

“You’re going to have to take that boot off.” The woman instructed.

“I know.” Clarke barked, and began to undo her laces. The woman stood back and watched her work. The wolf stayed at the woman’s side and studied Clarke. And Atom sat at the woman’s feet, intermittently leaping up at her legs. Clarke glanced at the three of them, her eyes catching warily on the wolf, before pulling her loosened boot and her sock from her foot. True enough, her ankle was already beginning to swell quite significantly. 

The woman sucked air in through her teeth.

“That’s going to be a bad one.” She said sagely. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Clarke muttered. 

The woman didn’t say anything. She just turned on the spot and wandered off a couple of yards, pulling a large and battered workbag from the base of another nearby tree. She attached a hacksaw that Clarke had not previously noticed to a loop on the back of the bag before reaching up and fiddling with the rope that hung from the branches overhead. After a couple of metallic clicks and a sharp tug, the heavy ropes fell to the ground with a whir and a thump. The woman reached for the end of the rope and wound it startlingly quickly around her hand and elbow until it was a neat coil, which she then also attached to the bag. The harness was unclipped from her waist and Clarke watched as it dropped down her legs before she stepped gracefully out of it and stuffed it into the bag and slung the whole lot over her shoulder. 

“Come on then.” The woman said, stepping towards Clarke and holding her hand out yet again. 

“What?” Clarke asked.

“I’m helping you to your car. You’re not going to get far on that ankle.” The woman explained confidently. Clarke stared at her and continued to ignore her outstretched hand. 

How had her day taken this strange turn?

“I walked here.” Clarke said quietly. The woman let out a throaty chuckle.

“I guess I’m helping you to my car then.” She said. 

Clarke must have recoiled at this suggestion. She had just escaped death by wolf, she was not now going to hobble into the car of some strange woman in the woods. 

The woman sighed and waved her hand out again for Clarke to take, widening her eyes at Clarke and clearly becoming a bit impatient.

“No.” Clarke said. 

“No?” The woman asked.

“No. I’m not getting in your car. Who the hell are you? You lurk in forests with a saw and a load of ropes and, you, you… You have a wolf for a pet!” Clarke exclaimed. “Who the hell has a wolf for a pet?” Clarke asked again. 

The woman, to her credit, simply ran a hand through her hair as her only show of frustration. 

“He’s only part wolf.” She repeated. Clarke just stared at her in disbelief. The woman sighed once more. 

“Lexa.” The woman said so quietly Clarke almost missed her.

“What?” Clarke asked. 

“My name is Lexa.” The woman clarified, catching Clarke’s eyes with her own. “I am in the woods with a saw and a load of ropes because I work here. I’m taking that tree down.” She nodded to dead tree behind Clarke before continuing.

“And I’m sorry that he scared you, but Ryder is not a wolf. He’s a wolfdog. He’s half German Shepherd and he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She said, still fixing Clarke with her gaze. 

“And I’m not a lunatic.” The woman added finally, a small hint of amusement creeping into the eyes that stayed trained on Clarke’s. 

Clarke, for her part, remained quiet. All of what the woman, Lexa, had said did make sense. There was a chance that the shock of coming face-to-face with a ‘wolf’ had shaken her up more than she had realised. Obviously this woman was not a threat, she had done nothing but try to help and reassure Clarke since she’d descended from the branches above. She looked kind, her face was kind, her eyes were kind, her eyes were…

“Woah.” Clarke muttered. Up until that particular moment Clarke had not really taken in the woman in front of her. Now, she took a good look. Lexa wore sturdy boots on her feet, she had tight, form-fitting, pants stuffed into the boots and a loose tank top, the arm holes of which hung low to reveal a black bandeau around her chest. The top was loose, but did nothing to disguise the fact that this woman was incredibly lean, her bare arms were slim but clearly muscular, and she was tanned, at least a shade or two darker than Clarke’s own fair skin. It wasn’t warm out in the autumn air, and yet this woman’s skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Her hair was long, hanging in gentle waves down her back and off her toned shoulders. And her face; it was an honest face, open and caring but defined with a structure that Clarke found herself yearning to sketch. Lexa’s lips were plump, her nose was straight and strong, but it was her eyes that made Clarke’s breath hitch. They were green. As green as the forest around them, like the moss beneath them and branches above. They were green and they were locked directly on Clarke. Clarke gulped. 

“OK.” Clarke let out.

“OK?” Lexa asked, still watching Clarke.

“OK, let’s get to the car.” Clarke clarified. 

“Oh! Right!” Lexa agreed, “Come on then.” She put her hand out one final time and this time Clarke grabbed it with her own. Lexa pulled her to her feet with a strength that really shouldn’t have surprised Clarke and yet still did. She wrapped one of her long, bare, arms around Clarke’s waist and helped her take a couple of steps forward. Lexa whistled. Both dogs followed promptly. 

“You promise you’re not a lunatic?” Clarke asked, finally realising that she may have been a bit rude to this beautiful stranger.

Lexa uttered that same throaty chuckle as before, but this time it resonated warmly in Clarke’s stomach as they headed off through the trees towards the path.


	2. ...you're sure of a big surprise

The journey to Lexa’s car was, thankfully, not all that long. It would, however, have been quicker if Clarke had been more able to walk on her own two feet. As it was, Lexa’s arm remained around Clarke’s waist, allowing the blonde to lean some of her weight on the taller girl and take the strain off her twisted and swollen ankle.

“Lexa is a weird name.” Clarke said, finally finding something to fill the silence that had settled over them. She immediately regretted her choice of conversation though, realising how rude she sounded.

“Alexandria.” Lexa replied, not appearing to have been put off by Clarke’s judgement of her name.

“Oh right, because that’s less weird.” Clarke muttered before widening her own eyes in shock. Why was she finding it so impossible to be nice to this beautiful woman who was literally carrying her home?

“My father is a historian. Specialises in ancient Egypt.” Lexa explained. Clarke had no reply to that; an ancient port was actually quite a cool namesake.

“I don’t even know your name…” Lexa went on, leaning back slightly so she could see Clarke’s face.

“Clarke.” The blonde said.

Lexa let out a bark of laughter that caused both Atom and Ryder to glance back at the women from their position up ahead on the path.

“And you said my name’s weird? What’s your excuse? Is your dad a big Superman fan or something?” Lexa continued to laugh.

“He’s dead.” Clarke stated. Everything that came out of Clarke’s mouth seemed to take her by surprise. It had taken her months to mention that particularly personal fact to Finn, and even then she had delved no deeper. Somehow, with this strange woman, Clarke was failing to implement any kind of brain to mouth filter.

“Oh.” Lexa was not laughing now. “I’m sorry.” She finished; the sincerity of her words undeniable.

“It’s OK. I don’t know why I just told you that.” Clarke said quietly and shrugged. Lexa did not respond, but Clarke distinctly felt the other woman give her side a reassuring rub where her arm remained wrapped in support. Clarke cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry I said you were a lunatic with a dangerous animal.” Clarke stated quickly, she now desperately wanted to move the conversation away from where it currently lingered.

“Well, I do have a wolf as a pet.” Lexa smirked at Clarke.

“You said he was—”

“Part wolf. I know. And he is. I’m just teasing you.” Lexa continued to smile sideways at Clarke. Clarke felt herself relaxing.

“And you do lurk in the forest with a saw.” Clarke added, finally returning Lexa’s smile.

“That’s true.” Lexa agreed. “Perhaps the real lunatic is the one willing to get in a car with me.” She added.

“I don’t have much choice, do I?” Clarke asked, rolling her eyes.

“Nope.” Lexa’s smile spread even further across her face and Clarke noticed again how full the other woman’s lips were. Not like Finn’s, Clarke thought, he had thin lips.

After a few moments of comfortable silence the pair rounded a corner on the path and found themselves in front of what had to be Lexa’s car. It had to be, as there were no other vehicles in sight. But it wasn’t a car, more of a pick-up truck, and quite a large one at that, with a hard top to the bed of it at the back.

Lexa deposited Clarke on a tree stump that acted as a block between the gravelled parking lot and the forest path.

“Sit tight a second.” She instructed once she had helped Clarke lower herself to sit on the stump.

Lexa strode over to the truck, wolfdog at her heels.

Atom, finally tearing himself away from his new massive hairy friend, seemed to suddenly remember his beloved owner and came skipping towards where Clarke was perched. He sat at her feet and lifted a paw to her knee, cocking his head to one side.

“Oh yeah?” Clarke asked him quietly, “Now you care, huh?” She smiled, scratching his head as he lifted his little body into a standing position once more and wagged his tail happily at her. Clarke laughed.

“Ryder, up!”

Clarke looked up at the sound of Lexa’s voice and then watched as the wolfdog obediently jumped into the back of the truck, the whole thing lowering slightly on its suspension under the weight of the large animal now sitting patiently on the truck bed. Lexa looked back to Clarke.

“Will that guy be alright in here?” She asked, nodding towards Atom.

“Sure, yeah.” Clarke agreed distractedly, still eyeing the wolfdog that peered out of the truck at her. Lexa laughed.

“Come on then you!” The dark-haired woman called to Atom.

Atom turned at once to Lexa and made to go towards her, before stopping and looking back at Clarke as if to question what he should do.

“Go on, Atom.” Clarke encouraged, though it was hardly necessary as the terrier instantly trotted off towards Lexa.

Lexa considered the little dog now hopping about in front of her, and then the distance up into the truck. She bent down and scooped him up in her arms.

“Atom, is it?” He licked her face, and she held him away from her body, laughing quietly. “In you go then, Atom.” She said, placing the dog next to her own in the back of the truck.

Clarke, for her part, remained seated on her tree stump, trying in vain not to notice how Lexa’s arms flexed as she lifted Atom and attempting to ignore the warmth spreading in her chest at how this woman interacted with the creature that had become pretty much family to Clarke.

“Your turn.” Lexa said, turning back to Clarke. Clarke averted her eyes quickly, as though Lexa may be able to read her thoughts.

“You’re going to chuck me in the back too?” Clarke asked incredulously. Lexa chuckled and shook her head, reaching back into the truck and grabbing a metal box before closing the grate across the back of the vehicle.

“No. I thought I’d let you ride shotgun,” Lexa stated, the smirk from earlier back on her lips, “But first I think we should sort you out.” She held up the box and Clarke realised it was a first aid kit.

“It’s just twisted. I’ll keep it elevated when it get home, it’ll be fine.” Clarke said hurriedly.

“Well that’s a good call, Doc, but—” Lexa began

“I’m not a doctor.” Clarke denied immediately. Lexa simply raised a sculpted eyebrow at her. Clarke swallowed nervously, realising that her adamant statement probably did seem a bit weird, but being thought of as a doctor was something that did not sit well with her anymore.

“Steady on, I wasn’t accusing you of anything. Plus, I wouldn’t think for a second that you’re a doctor.”

“I nearly was.” Clarke let out. Once again her mouth was ahead of her brain and she closed her eyes in frustration. Lexa, unbeknownst to Clarke, watched this reaction with interest but decided to make no comment. There was something more to the woman sitting before her and she found it intriguing.

“I can see why you didn’t make it.” Lexa said finally, causing Clarke’s eyes to open once more. Lexa could tell that this was a touchy subject and chose to fall back on her oldest defence; humour.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Clarke asked indignantly.

“A qualified doctor may have noticed the gash on her own head.” Lexa pointed out.

Clarke’s hand shot to the back of her head at Lexa’s words. Her head had been aching there, but she assumed it was just from where it had bumped the dead tree when she fell backwards. Clarke pulled her fingers back from her head and inspected them. Blood.

“Oh.” Clarke said.

“Yeah.” Lexa replied, “So, I’m not a doctor either, but I think I should clean that for you.” She placed the first aid box on the ground and opened it, the rusty hinges giving out a small creak as she did so. She retrieved a couple of alcohol wipes and a tube of antiseptic cream.

“Thank-you.” said Clarke quietly; watching as Lexa first used a couple of the wipes to clean her own hands.

“Sure,” Lexa replied, grabbing a clean alcohol wipe and reaching to turn Clarke’s head slightly. Clarke held her breath and allowed her head to be guided by Lexa’s cool fingers on her chin. She could smell the familiar scent of the alcohol wipe.

“This could sting a bit.” Lexa warned.

“I’m sure I’ll cope,” Clarke scoffed then gasped quietly and couldn’t stop herself from jerking her head away a bit at the touch of the wipe to the cut on her head. Lexa chuckled.

“Are you sure you’re not a doctor? You’re certainly not a good patient.” Lexa commented good-naturedly. Clarke rolled her eyes but said nothing, instead simply turning her head back to where Lexa had directed it originally. She could see Lexa’s face from the corner of her eye, she was ultra aware of Lexa’s hand that remained lightly on her cheek to keep her in place. Lexa frowned as she wiped away the blood that was beginning to congeal in Clarke’s blonde hair. She was relieved to find that the cut was not the horrific gash she had feared after noticing the blood that had begun to make its way down the blonde’s neck, and was in fact more of a large scratch than anything more severe.

Next Lexa reached for the tube of antiseptic cream by her side. Clarke barely had a chance to mourn the loss of the other woman’s gentle touch on her face before it returned. The absence was so brief that, thankfully, Clarke didn’t have time to analyse why would she would miss the hand of a stranger on her own face.

Lexa squeezed a little antiseptic onto the cut and rubbed it lightly in.

“There.” Lexa exclaimed, “All done.”

Clarke turned to face Lexa to thank her and found herself suddenly much closer to the other woman’s face than she had anticipated. What’s more, Lexa’s hand still remained where it had been, resting on Clarke’s cheek. Forest green eyes locked onto sky blue once more and nothing was said for a moment or two. Clarke watched as the most striking eyes she’d ever seen flitted momentarily down to her lips and then back up to meet her gaze once more. Lexa swallowed thickly and Clarke noticed the movement of the stranger’s neck. It was a beautiful, graceful neck.

And it was that thought, that strange and foreign idea of someone being so beautiful that even their neck was worth thinking about, that pulled Clarke from her trance. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Thanks” Clarke said. Lexa’s eyes shifted away and retrieved her hand once more, patting her thigh in a quick rhythm as she stood abruptly from her crouching position in front of Clarke.

“Right. Yeah. No problem.” Lexa said, nodding her head distractedly and picking up the first aid box once more before striding back to the truck.

Clarke stood up from the tree stump and hobbled a couple of steps forward as Lexa shoved the box back in the truck and rounded to the driver’s side of the vehicle.

“Uh, Lexa?” Clarke asked tentatively, hobbling forward a bit more and then wincing as her ankle throbbed angrily. Lexa’s head popped back into view.

“Oh, shit, sorry!” Lexa called and hurried back to Clarke, wrapping her arm around the blonde’s waist once more and helping her into the truck.

A few minutes later they were both settled in the cab of Lexa’s truck, the dogs still visible through the small window behind the seats. Lexa started the engine and drummed another rhythm on the steering wheel.

“So? Where to?” She asked.

Clarke gave Lexa her address and some directions as to how to get there, and Lexa pulled out of the parking lot and onto the dirt road out of the forest.

Clarke looked out of the window and watched the trees passing by, trying to avoid looking to her other side. If she had ever considered riding in a truck, in the middle of the woods, with a complete stranger, she would have expected she would feel uncomfortable, nervous, awkward. And yet, sitting there, with Lexa beside her – Lexa who had half carried her to the car, who had patched up her injuries and been so friendly – Clarke felt none of things. She felt at ease. It was a feeling that had been absent in her life for so long now that it took her a moment to identify it. That same morning she had been fighting with Finn. She had found out about the other girl – the other girls – and she had told him she didn’t want to see him anymore. She had tried to muster tears, anger, but the feelings just weren’t there. She was hurt, sure, but it was a hurt so small that was barely a blip on her radar after the last three years. She knew hurt well. She knew anger, frustration and guilt well.

Now, not 24 hours later, she was being driven home by a stranger. And she felt fine. Well, her ankle was twinging steadily and her head ached, but other than that…

“This is not how I saw my day going.” Clarke murmured, once again thinking aloud.

“No?” Lexa asked, oblivious to the fact that Clarke had meant to keep that thought internalised. “You didn’t mean to wander alone in the woods and be confronted by a terrifying wolf?”

“Can’t say it was part of the plan.” Clarke laughed.

“Do you often walk in those woods alone?” Lexa asked, her tone a bit more serious.

“Usually I only go there with my friends.” Clarke explained.

“But not today?” Lexa prompted.

“No. Today I was feeling…” Clarke began. And then stopped. What was she feeling? She had thought it was the hurt over Finn’s infidelity that had her stomping through the forest with Atom. But perhaps that was just the surface reason. Finn had ruined her morning, sure, but it had been more than that. She hadn’t cared about being in the forest by herself. She just wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

“You were feeling…” Lexa urged, glancing at Clarke to gage her expression.

“Reckless.” Clarke finished. “It was a rough morning, I needed an escape.”

Lexa nodded in understanding.

“The forest is a good place to escape to.” Lexa agreed. “Maybe next time take a friend though. What if you’d twisted that ankle with no one to help you get home?”

“Well, hopefully next time I won’t be ambushed by a wolf.” Clarke retorted, a hint of humour in her voice. Lexa caught it and let out a laugh. She glanced in the rear view mirror, catching a glimpse of her dog behind her.

“You hear that, Ryder? No more ambushing Clarke.”

The wolfdog let out a whine at the sound of his name and Lexa laughed again. Clarke glared at Lexa briefly, albeit with a smile on her face, before turning to look out of the passenger window once more. The smile remained.

Trees gave way to fields and fields in turn gave way to suburban streets and buildings and before long they were approaching their destination. There had been a comfortable silence for about twenty minutes but now Clarke was directing Lexa the final few blocks to her home.

Lexa pulled the truck up to the curb outside Clarke’s home. It looked like the kind of house an older person would own, it must have held at least three bedrooms, and was not what Lexa would expect to belong to someone who, at an educated guess, was in her mid-twenties, like Lexa herself. The house had a front yard separating it was from the sidewalk and a path leading up to the front door. On a step by the front door sat a man with shoulder length dark hair. He looked up as Lexa turned off the engine.

Clarke noticed the figure too, and felt tension reappearing in her body as she recognised Finn. The air in the truck suddenly lost its comfort, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by its driver.

“A friend of yours?” Lexa asked, nodding at the man on the step, “Boyfriend?” Clarke let out a wry laugh and shrugged.

“Not since this morning.” She answered.

“Ah.” Was all Lexa said, before opening her door and swinging herself out of it. She walked around the bonnet of the truck and opened Clarke’s door for her, before helping the blonde gently down from the height of the truck. She could feel the tension in the other woman as she supported her around to the back of the truck.

Lexa unlocked the truck bed and Atom rushed forward to Clarke, jumping clumsily into her arms. Clarke smiled at the dog and then, to Lexa’s great surprise reached out a hand that wasn’t hanging onto a wriggling terrier and ruffled the thick fur of Ryder’s neck, her fingers partially disappearing into it. Ryder’s tail wagged, smacking against the side of the truck. Lexa smiled and turned to Clarke. Both were studiously ignoring the man at the door who was now standing and watching them.

“Think you can take it from here?” Lexa asked, shuffling her feet as Clarke deposited Atom on the ground.

“Yeah, I…” Clarke started, “I’ve got it.” She finished.

“OK.” Lexa nodded, looking at Clarke almost nervously.

“Lexa, I…” Clarke started again, “Thank-you. For all your help.” She finished.

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Lexa replied. “I mean, it was my wolf that led to you needing help in the first place.” She smiled

“The wolf’s not so bad after all.” Clarke replied, smiling at Lexa before reaching her hand out to Ryder once more.

“Yeah…” Lexa said.

“So… I guess I better go.”

“Yeah.” Lexa said again, but didn’t move. Clarke nodded and turned towards the house.

“Wait!” Lexa let out. Clarke turned back to watch Lexa lean into the back of the truck (and she definitely didn’t take the opportunity to appreciate the fit of Lexa’s jeans over her ass). Lexa re-emerged with a scrap of paper and a pen. She pulled the pen cap off with her teeth and held it there while she leant on the side of the truck and scribbled something down.

“I realise this seems totally inappropriate, especially with what you just said about him,” Lexa jerked her head towards where Finn was now simply staring at them from a few yards away, “but I wanted to say something the whole ride back, and I don’t want to drive away and regret not doing anything… So…” Lexa looked at her feet nervously before grabbing Clarke’s hand and stuffing the slip of paper into it.

“Here.” Lexa said quickly. “I… Um… Bye!” she finished, darting back into the truck and startling Clarke who had her mouth open to reply, but just closed it instead and watched as Lexa disappeared into the cab of the truck. The truck’s engine roared to life, and Clarke wouldn’t have been surprised if the wheels screeched as Lexa pulled away from the curb. Clarke simply watched the truck retreat down the road, and closed her hand around the piece of paper that Lexa had given her.

Clarke’s attention was broken by the clearing of a throat. Finn. Clarke sighed. The man was now standing by her side.

“What are you doing here, Finn?” She asked tiredly.

“Who was that?” Finn replied, ignoring Clarke’s question.

“A friend. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve never seen her before.” Finn said dejectedly.

“What do you want?” Clarke asked, barely concealing her anger at Finn’s presence.

“To talk.” He said.

“We talked this morning. We have nothing else to talk about.” Clarke replied. She turned on her heel, Atom right by her side, and headed towards the front door. Her ankle was killing her, but she forced herself to walk on it as normally as possible. She didn’t want Finn trying to her.

“Clarke!” He called, beginning to follow her.

“We’re done, Finn.” Clarke replied over her shoulder, not bothering to turn to look at the man she had considered her boyfriend until that very morning. She made it inside just as he was about to reach her and slammed the door behind herself and Atom.

It wasn’t until the banging at the door had finally stopped about ten minutes later, when Clarke had put a fresh bowl of water down for Atom that she remembered the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. She opened it and a smile spread across her face.

It was a phone number. Lexa’s phone number. And just a few words that were clearly written in haste.

 

_In case you’re still feeling reckless…_


	3. Gorgeous Face

For three days Clarke had been weighing up what to do about that piece of paper. For such a small scrap, containing the digits of a stranger and a rushed – albeit rather smooth – message, it took up quite a lot of her time.

 

_In case you’re still feeling reckless…_

 

Was she feeling reckless? That was the question Clarke had been asking herself for those three days. She supposed the answer was no, she wasn’t feeling reckless. If she had been, she probably would have dialled those numbers by now. And yet Lexa’s note had remained either in her pocket or in her hand, and always not far from her mind.

 

If this was happening two years ago, Clarke would have discussed the situation with Raven by now. She probably wouldn’t have hesitated to call Lexa, or send a flirtatious text. But, this wouldn’t have happened two years ago. Two years ago Clarke wouldn’t have been wandering alone in the woods, she never would have met Lexa. And now, there’s no way she’ll be talking this one out with Raven. Sure, Raven would be more than happy to chat with Clarke about the beautiful stranger and their ridiculous meeting involving a ‘wolf’ and a head injury. Raven would for sure get a kick out of that. She’d definitely encourage Clarke to call Lexa. She’d say that such a fluke altercation could only be fate, and then she’d laugh and add that failing fate bringing her the romance of a lifetime, it at least sounded like Lexa would be good in bed. Clarke chuckled to herself at that thought, she could just hear Raven saying that.   
  
But Clarke wouldn’t be calling Raven up about this, no matter how relieved it would probably make the brunette. Clarke couldn’t bring herself to talk like that with Raven anymore. She couldn’t forgive herself enough to allow them to get back to their ‘practically-sisters’ relationship. She could still hear Raven’s words.

 

_“We all lost him, Clarke. He was practically my dad too. But you have to stop doing this to yourself; there was nothing you could do. It’s not your fault.”_

Clarke had no doubt that Raven thought her words were reassuring, but they punched a hole in her gut that still oozes when she relives that conversation. Raven was right. They did all lose her dad that day. And she was right; he was practically Raven’s dad too. But she was wrong about something; it was Clarke’s fault. There must have been something more she could have done. Clarke knew that from the start though. It was being reminded that Jake had pretty much raised Raven as well that set the guilt churning once more within Clarke. It had been present from that day, and even now it remained, guilt, shifting like a large snake coiling and uncoiling itself in the pit of her stomach.   
  
She couldn’t talk to Raven about something as frivolous as a pretty girl giving her a phone number. She didn’t deserve to be able to have those kinds of conversations with Raven anymore.

 

Clarke sighed and shoved the piece of paper back in her pocket. She stood abruptly from the sofa, accidentally dislodging Atom from where he had been leaning against her knee. The terrier looked at her accusingly for a second before moving stiffly to the other end of the sofa and flopping down once more, expelling an audible huff as he did so. Clarke glanced around her living room once more. It was silent in the house, as usual, but today the silence seemed to be pressing in on her. She pulled the piece of paper from her pocket once more, and before she could reconsider her actions, she grabbed her phone from the coffee table.

 

_Do you want to maybe get a coffee sometime?_

Clarke hit send. Then immediately regretted it. ‘Do you want to get coffee sometime?’ She muttered aloud. Over the three days of agonising about whether or not to text Lexa, she had come up with various options of what to say if she chose to go through with it. That had not been one of them. She flung her phone down next to her, earning another disgruntled look from Atom.

 

“Sorry boy.” She said quietly, ruffling the fur behind her dog’s ears.  
  
Atom seemed content with her apology and closed his eyes once more. Clarke put her head back against the sofa and let out a groan. Raven would have come up with something much better to say. Raven would give Clarke a shove for that lame text.

 

Ding!  
  
Clarke’s head shot to the side as her phone lit up almost threateningly on the sofa beside her. She could barely bring herself to pick it up. Almost not wanting to know how Lexa responded to that message.

 

_Who is this?_ – Lexa

 

Oh. Clarke hadn’t even put her name on the message. She knew Lexa didn’t have her number.

 

_Sorry. This is Clarke. We met last week in the woods._

 

Clarke was cringing on the inside as she waited for another notification noise from her phone.

 

_Clarke… Nope. Don’t remember. I meet a lot of girls in the woods._ – Lexa

 

Clarke’s eyes widened as she scanned that message. What? Of all the responses she had been expecting that was not one of them. What could she say to that? There was nothing she could say to that. A few minutes passed as Clarke wracked her brain for something to say. Nothing. She came to the conclusion that nothing was the best thing to say in this embarrassing situation. Satisfied with that decision, Clarke prepared to erase the whole thing from her mind when—

 

Ding!

 

_Clarke, I’m kidding. Of course I remember you._ – Lexa

 

She laughed. Clarke actually laughed.

 

_That was mean._

_I’m sorry. I bet you laughed though._ – Lexa

 

Clarke was just typing a response to that particular message, ready to deny the laughter that had indeed escaped her, when another text came flying in.

 

_Besides, it’s not as mean as leaving me hanging for three days. I thought I’d well and truly embarrassed myself with that cheesy note._ – Lexa

 

That was a good point, Clarke reasoned. Whilst she had been mulling over whether or not to use Lexa’s number, she had failed to consider how Lexa might be feeling about the lack of contact. She had seemed incredibly flustered when she’d shoved the note in Clarke’s hand and then got the hell out of there. Quite unfitting with the almost chivalrous attitude she had displayed when helping Clarke out with her twisted ankle. Clarke felt bad.

 

_I’m sorry too then._

Clarke hit send. And then had another thought.

 

_And that note wasn’t cheesy. I thought it was pretty suave._

Clarke was happy with that. And it was true. Her phone dinged almost immediately.

 

_Suave?! Like some kind of British gentleman?_ – Lexa

 

Clarke rolled her eyes and chuckled.

 

_Suave. Like a bit of a smooth talker…_

_I’ll accept that. My pride has been healed._ – Lexa

 

Clarke smiled.

 

_So, coffee?_

_Yes please –_ Lexa

 

* * *

  

Clarke and Lexa continued to exchange texts throughout the day, and for the first time in a long time, Clarke’s day didn’t seem too bad. She wasn’t even dreading going out that night. It was a Friday, which meant that she would be heading to a local bar with Raven, Octavia, Lincoln and Bellamy. She was there every week; she was there to reassure her friends that she was OK. She wasn’t OK. But she didn’t want the others fussing over her. She would go, she would smile when appropriate and laugh when necessary. She would drink and dull the ache for a couple of hours. She wasn’t fooling anyone.  
  
For months her friends had tried to pull her out of the mood that shrouded her, for months they tried to get her to talk about what had happened, they tried to get her to talk to _anyone_ about what happened. But the months since her father’s death had drifted into two years, and her friends’ attempts to ‘fix’ Clarke had faded somewhat. It wasn’t that they didn’t care anymore, but that they saw their efforts going nowhere, and chose instead to let Clarke come to them when she needed them. It kind of hurt them that she never did.   
  
This night, Clarke showered and dressed herself in tight fitting jeans, a long-sleeved – and also quite tight – grey top and her favourite blue bomber jacket. She applied her make-up in the bathroom mirror. This night, as her phone dinged with another message from Lexa, Clarke actually smiled at herself in the mirror before switching on the kitchen radio for Atom and telling him she’d be home later. Atom was used to Friday nights. He gave Clarke’s hand a cursory lick and then settled himself on the sofa for the evening.

 

_Have fun tonight –_ Lexa

 

* * *

 

“Princess! Hey!”

 

Octavia came bounding up to Clarke as soon as the blonde entered the bar, wrapping her arms around Clarke’s neck and practically leaping on her. Clarke hated that they still called her that. It has been her dad’s nickname for her.   
  
“Hi O.” Clarke wrapped an arm around Octavia’s back and patted her a couple of times until the diminutive woman released Clarke.  
  
“Drink?” Bellamy offered, nodding at Clarke in greeting.  
  
“Please.” Clarke agreed.  
  
Raven stepped up from beside Bellamy and pulled Clarke into a hug, a slightly less demanding one than Octavia’s brand of greeting. Clarke returned the embrace before pulling back and giving a tight-lipped smile at her friends. It always took her a few minutes to loosen up around them. Or at least a couple of drinks.   
  
The night progressed as it always did, and before long Lincoln had arrived too and Clarke was playing Bellamy at pool as Octavia perched on Lincoln’s lap to one side of the pool table.   
  
Clarke stood to the side as Bellamy took a shot. Feeling her phone buzz in her back pocket, she retrieved the device and checked her messages. It was a picture message from Lexa, featuring the girl’s stunning face and Ryder the wolfdog cocking his head to one side. Lexa was wearing a questioning expression that matched the look of the dog.  
  
  
_Ryder wants to know if he’s forgiven for scaring you –_ Lexa  
  
  
Clarke let out a laugh before replying.  
  
  
_Who could be mad at that face?_

“Clarke, your shot.” Bellamy said, breaking Clarke’s attention from her phone. She felt it buzz again as she shoved it back in her pocket and lined up her next shot. Potting another ball, and throwing a grin at Bellamy, she stepped back and reached for her phone again.  
  
This time there were two messages. The first a shot of Ryder panting in a way that made it look like he was smiling.  
  
  
_This face?  
_  
  
And a second shot, this time of Lexa’s face, a perfectly arched eyebrow and a half-smile.  
  
  
_Or this face_?

Clarke took a breath. Lexa truly was gorgeous; there was no doubt about it. She heard Bellamy tell her it was her turn again, but couldn’t quite pull her gaze from her phone.   
  
“Geez, Finn is keen tonight, huh?” Octavia said, sidling up to Clarke’s side and gesturing to her phone.  
  
Clarke locked the phone’s screen quickly and shoved it into her pocket once more.   
  
“We broke up.” Clarke said quickly, heading back to the edge of the pool table and lifting her cue. But she felt a hand grab her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” It was Raven. “You broke up when?”  
  
Clarke was busted now. She knew it. Why did she even say that?  
  
“Uh… a few days ago.” She said quietly. “It’s fine.”   
  
“It’s not fine, Clarke.” Raven shot back, still retaining her grip on Clarke as the blonde once again tried to return to the pool game. The others were all listening now and Clarke could feel herself tensing up, not wanting to be the centre of attention.  
  
“Raven…” Clarke started, glancing sideways at Octavia who was eyeing her from next to an increasingly upset looking Raven.  
  
“No Clarke, this is the kind of thing you’re meant to tell us.” Raven argued.  
  
“It’s not a big deal, we weren’t that serious, you know that.”   
  
“Well, he is a douche.” Octavia’s voice was low, but they all still caught what he uttered.  
  
“What happened?” Raven demanded, ignoring Octavia’s comment, she was not letting this go.

“He cheated on me.” Clarke muttered, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
“HE WHAT?!” Octavia blurted. “I told you he was a douche!”   
  
“Octavia…” Bellamy was trying to rein in his younger sister.  
  
“I’ll kill him!” Octavia exclaimed.  
  
“Octavia!” Bellamy barked.   
  
“It’s alright Bell, he is a douche. She’s right.” Clarke agreed. She tested out a smile and a shrug, hoping to show them she’s fine.   
  
“So, he cheated on you, you found out and broke up ‘a few days ago’ and you’re only telling us now because we mentioned it first?” Raven said. She wasn’t looking at Clarke; she was staring with a slightly glazed expression at the wall behind where Lincoln was still sitting.   
  
“Raven, I’m sorry.” Clarke let out. She could see the hurt in Raven’s eyes. She knew she’d caused it. She knew Raven was affected the most by Clarke’s inability to be close to her friends these days. They had grown up together, they had been each other’s confidantes. This was just yet another blow to Raven. Clarke sighed.  
  
“Really, Raven, it’s not a big deal.”   
  
“Right. Sure. No big deal.” Raven said quietly before stalking off towards the bar. Clarke watched her leave and felt the almost-happiness she’d been experiencing since meeting Lexa ebbing away.   
  
“Shit.” Clarke let out, shaking her head.  
  
“I’ll go talk to her.” Octavia decided, hurrying off after their friend.   
  
“You should have told us.” Bellamy said in a low voice as Clarke finally put the pool cue back on the table.  
  
“I know.” She agreed. She agreed because that’s what he wanted, but she couldn’t imagine having actually told any of them what had happened.   
  
“I’ll go get some more drinks.” Bellamy suggested.  
  
Clarke sat down heavily on the bench-like seating that surrounded the corner of the bar where the pool table was located. She let out another sigh and raked her fingers through her loose blonde hair. Try as she might, it seemed she just couldn’t avoid hurting her friends. It wasn’t her intention at all, she just couldn’t find the connection she used to have with them anymore. She sucked in a lungful of air and blew it slowly out again.   
  
“Are you alright?”  
  
Clarke had almost forgotten that Lincoln was still there. His gentle voice broke through her thoughts.

“I’m fine. Sorry about that Lincoln.”  
  
“It’s OK. I think I get it.”   
  
Clarke could actually believe that. She liked Lincoln. He had come into their group just a year back when Octavia had started at a new gym – a gym where Lincoln happened to be a personal trainer. The man was a gentle giant, quiet and placid, nothing like the rest of the loud personalities in their group.   
  
“So, the text wasn’t from Finn.” Lincoln stated simply.  
  
“No.”  
  
“But it made you smile.”   
  
She hadn’t realised her response had been so plain on her face.   
  
“It did.” She agreed, letting another small smile break across her features as she remembered the message from Lexa.  
  
“I met someone else.” Clarke found herself saying.  
  
“Someone who makes you smile.” Lincoln replied.  
  
“Yeah. Lexa makes me smile.” Clarke agreed.   
  
“That’s good, Clarke.”  
  
Lincoln placed one of his large arms around Clarke’s shoulders and rubbed her back reassuringly but didn’t say any more.  
  
“Thank-you.” Clarke whispered. There was a moment of calm when Clarke let her breath even out again before it was the quiet was disturbed once more.  
  
“Right! The douche is out of the picture, let’s celebrate!” Octavia was back, dragging Raven with her and accompanied by Bellamy, complete with a tray of shots.   
  
The night progressed better after that. They all fuelled up on shots and gradually as the group got drunker the tension eased until a quite inebriated Raven slung her arms around Clarke’s neck.  
  
“I love you, Princess.” She slurred into Clarke’s hair. Even in her less-than-sober state, Clarke felt her shoulders tighten at hearing the nickname again.  
  
“I love you too, Raven.” Clarke assured, her speech was also a bit disjointed.   
  
Raven pulled back from Clarke but didn’t let go, instead her face had a comically serious expression on it as she glared into Clarke’s eyes.  
  
“Finn’s a dick.” She said gravely. Clarke laughed.  
  
“Finn is a dick.” Clarke nodded.  
  
“You deserve someone better.” Raven said decidedly and gave a single firm nod before letting Clarke go completely and sauntering off in search of Bellamy.  
  
Someone better. Shit. Lexa. Clarke suddenly realised that in all the ensuing drama she hadn’t replied to Lexa’s messages. She grabbed wildly for her phone and messed up her lock code twice before finally opening it. She was met once more with Lexa’s earlier message, the picture of Lexa’s beautiful face staring out at her, laughter twinkling in her mossy green eyes.   
  
Clarke took in the picture for a while, and the accompanying words, ‘Or this face?’ For the life of her, Clarke, in her drunken state, couldn’t recall exactly what Lexa was asking about her face. But Clarke knew she needed to reply. God, Lexa was beautiful. Such a gorgeous woman.

  
  
_Gorgeous face_

Clarke was satisfied with that. Whatever it was Lexa had been messaging her about was sure to be answered with those two words. Besides, they were true, Clarke was certain about that.

  
_You’re drunk!_ – Lexa

 

The response came about 15 minutes later. And another shot later on Clarke’s end.

  
  
_You’re beautiful_

That had seemed like a suitable retort.

_Oh my God, Clarke! You’re going to regret sending that for sure –_ Lexa

  
  
Clarke read that message with a look of confusion on her face. Why would she regret telling Lexa she was beautiful? Lexa was beautiful. Clarke didn’t understand. She began to type a response but didn’t get to finish it before she felt herself being hoisted from her seat by Bellamy and dragged over to where the rest of the group were now dancingly manically on the other side of the bar. After that, the night descended further in drunken dancing and no more messaging was possible.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Clarke awoke with a banging headache and a mouthful of Atom fur. The terrier had curled up on the pillow next to her face. Clarke was pretty sure he was the only creature on the planet willing to brave her morning breath today.  
  
She reached for her phone to check the time.   
  
11am. Oh dear. And one new message.  
  
_How’s the head? –_ Lexa.  
  
Clarke was confused by that and scrolled back through the previous messages. Her headache worsened immediately and she let out a loud groan.   
  
“Oh God.”


End file.
